To hunt a Hunter
by Tilthanial
Summary: A leading officer of the top secret Trandoshan Assassin's Guild loses all of his men in a setup by Imperial forces. Only when he gets home does he find out who betrayed him...His own brother
1. Mission gone Wrong

_When I get back to that Sithspawned cretin I'm gonna stick his shebs on a spike and make him eat 'em. That scummy human tried to sell us out._ The stench of burning flesh disrupted his thoughts. He casually kicked at the body of a nearby storm trooper.

"Status report!"

His second-in saluted casually and pointed down the hall. "No casualties worth mentioning. Borsth lost his thumb when a stormie got a lucky shot off. All surveillance and witnesses are down."

Su'Shif'ta'do laughed harshly and retrieved a spare E-11A1. He started off down the hall while examining the weapon. "Hey, Skrobb, check this out. This has an advanced freelol system, a Tibanna gas cartridge, double-collapsible stock…heck this thing even has a flip-down pistol grip under the barrel. Someone's been upgrading his security illegally."

The Trandoshan in question hurdled the growing pile of corpses being stacked against the wall and grabbed the gun. "Did you say Tibanna gas? He must have some serious enemies if he bought that stuff." He sighed longingly and aimed down the hallway. The gun barely kicked as he pounded a round through a door. The door splintered in half and crumbled under the blast. He sighed again and tucked the weapon into his pack. "I think I'll keep this one. After all, you never know when you'll need a disintegrator rifle dressed up like a regular rifle."

Su'Shif'ta'do patted him on the back and helped one of his men lift the body of the Moff that they had taken out. "Just make sure you keep the safety on. I don't want any _accidents_ on the return trip. Spotless record and all that, you know?"

Skrobb's reply was cut off as Su'Shif'ta'do rechecked his portable scanner. _Thank the Scorekeeper for scanners._ He frowned as he looked at the scanner. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

"Oh Sithsp-"

Blaster fire erupted from the second-floor balconies as a dozen stormtroopers threw off their thermal-jamming cloaks. Before the commandos could respond a pair of grey-armored figures kicked down the door in front of Skrobb. The soldier had just enough time to curse as he watched his blaster rounds bounce off of their armor before they cut him down with a hail of blaster fire. All throughout the chateau his men's vital signs flatlined as an unbelievable amount of stormtroopers unleashed a flood of fire on them.

As the armored figures turned on him, Su'Shif'ta'do dove for cover. He fumbled with the safety of his LJ-50 and prayed aloud to the Scorekeeper. When a lull occurred in the fire, he sprinted down the hall and leapt behind the pile of dead stormtroopers. His prayers were answered when a loose thermal detonator fell off of a utility belt into his lap. He paused momentarily and stared at it before gauging the explosive charge inside. _Screw this. It'll have to do._

A quick glance over the pile confirmed the armored troopers' position. They hadn't moved from their place in the doorway. _That's my second lucky break, I've got one left._ With a silent prayer he lobbed the detonator over the pile at the troopers. The stormtroopers left off on their barrage as the detonator distracted them. _Lucky break three, here I come._ As quietly as he could Su'Shif'ta'do began to slink away from his position. Voice cries of dismay greeted his ears as the detonator landed underneath a clump of stormtroopers.

Unfortunately, the stormtroopers in the next hallway hadn't seen the detonator. A flurry of blaster fire caught Su'Shif'ta'do in the thigh as he entered the room. The smell of cooked flesh caused Su'Shif'ta'do to gag as he waited for the next volley.

Then the thermal detonator went off. Apparently, the deceased Moff had paid for the very best equipment, even taking care to upgrade the explosive yield of his guard's grenades. Masonry and glass shards flew in all directions as the wall behind Su'Shif'ta'do collapsed. Mangled limbs and body parts peppered the stormtroopers in front of Su'Shif'ta'do, causing them to panic. Their terror gave Su'Shif'ta'do enough time to aim his LJ-50 at the supports holding up the balcony that they stood on. _Three strikes, buddy._ Blue fire spewed out of the gun's barrel as it launched a high-velocity round into the main pillar supporting the balcony. After a second-long pause, the compressed energy erupted in a massive blue shockwave. The pillar shattered at the connecting joint as a wave of energy sliced through the column. Within seconds the balcony had caved inwards, spilling all of the stormtroopers onto the ground. A second shot wiped out all but one of them. The man screamed in horror as Su'Shif'ta'do's livid face encompassed his visor.

"Not so tough now, stormie."

His booted foot smashed through the stormtrooper's helmet with frightening ease. With an absent-minded swipe he cleared off the gore and surveyed the area. Through the wreckage he saw the torn bodies of most of his men. Their orange-skinned bodies contrasted sharply with the bright white and red of the Imperial trooper's armor. After a brief moment of pining, he shouldered a fallen bandolier of grenades and limped off towards his team's craft. If any had survived, they'd head there. _If_.


	2. Hostile Welcome

He was alone. None of the others had reached the checkpoint. He had stayed until the stormtroopers had found him. He had stayed when they fired hails of laser at him, guarding the door. He had stayed until the pile of bodies before him blocked out the incoming enemies. He had stayed until the whine of the incoming TIE fighters had called for him to retreat and activate the ship. Still none had come. He was alone.

The only sound in the ship apart from his unsteady breathing was the soft beep of the flashing hyperspace lights. The ship was darker and seemed more close than before. Looking over his shoulder, Su'Shif'ta'do grimly surveyed the room. Jammed in between the seats around the sabacc board were the numerous credits that had been dropped when they landed. The game had lasted for five hours and the winnings had exchanged hands more times than he could count. Now there was no one the claim it. He slid his tongue out and hissed regretfully. It would all go to the Orphan's Fund. He had seen the drill done many times before, but it had never happened to him. When a commando went down in a mission, all of his pay was sent to the Orphan's Fund. From there specialized trainers would raise orphaned Trandoshans and turn them into soldiers, or even better, bounty hunters.

The thought made Su'Shif'ta'do snort. Bounty Hunters were overrated. The only true Bounty Hunters worth mentioning were Bossk and his father Cradossk. Now those were two amazing Hunters. Together they had more captures than the rest of the Trandoshan Bounty Hunters combined. If only Bossk were still here. He would know what to do. Su'Shif'ta'do had always looked up to Bossk. Bossk had every quality that Su'Shif'ta'do did not have. He was proud, of good heritage, and a warrior through and through. Nothing seemed too hard for Bossk. Except for the cursed Boba Fett.

(EXITING HYPERSPACE IN TWO GALACTIC MINUTES)

Su'Shif'ta'do glanced wearily at his monitor. The ship AI, REAVER, had a frustrating tendency to give as little detail as possible unless persuaded. This was no exception.

"REAVER," he hissed venomously. "I told you to alert me when we were an hour out."

(AND SUBMIT TO ONE OF INFERIOR APTITUDE? NEVER. BESIDES, YOU WERE BUSY STARING AT THE FLOOR WHEN WE PASSED THE HOUR MARK. ANY CHANCE I HAD OF GRABBING YOUR ATTENTION WOULD HAVE SURELY RESULTED IN A PAINFUL CLASH FOR BOTH PARTIES INVOLVED.)

He was right. Su'Shif'ta'do was in no mood for lecture, though, so he satisfied himself by giving the console a vicious kick. REAVER responded by jolting him with the ship's security system. Su'Shif'ta'do grimaced as the electricity dissipated on his scaly hide. "You know that doesn't work, REAVER."

(I KNOW THAT, YOU KNOW THAT, AND I DO NOT CARE. IT STILL IRRITATES YOU TO NO END. ONE MINUTE OUT.)

"Great." Su'Shif'ta'do stretched luxuriously in his seat. "Notify the Council that the mission was a success as soon as we enter the system. Tell them that there were casualties, nothing more."

(I WILL COMPLY WITH YOUR DESIRES AND WILL NOT ADD OR DETRACT FROM YOUR MESSAGE.)

"Good, see to it that you do." His part done, Su'Shif'ta'do rose from his seat and strode over to the sabacc table to collect the winnings. He paused over the table. Skrobb's cards were laid out as carefully as if they were one of his explosive charges. He had a pure sabacc lined up. Krishart had an idiot's array in his deck. There were three thousand credits in the pot. That would have been fun to watch.

The weapon's rack was still unlocked and open. Su'Shif'ta'do crossed the hold in four quick strides and dialed the locking key. A soft light emancipated from the rack-bumpers as it slid inwards to the near-silent whisper of escaping air. When the door clicked shut Su'Shif'ta'do's collection of exotics and trophies were safely encased behind six centimeters of laser-resistant durasteel.

A few other things needed touching up. Su'Shif'ta'do set about tidying up the hold and cargo area with fervor, placing everything in its proper place. When he finally finished REAVER had already set the _Rancor's Hide_ on a landing course. Su'Shif'ta'do had but to buckle in and wait as the planet Trandosha loomed ever closer. A squadron of Z-95 Headhunters took up a wing-mate position on his tail as the _Rancor's Hide_ entered the atmosphere. Each fighter waggled its wings in respect of him and cleared a path through the bustling air traffic.

Trandosha was a beautiful world. Lush forests reached out in all directions and clung to the odd mountains and rippling lakes with green fingers that waved back and forth in the wind like so many blades of grass. Interspersed evenly between the lakes and mountains were dozens of small villages and towns with long, rich fields full of many kinds of produce. Then there was Castille. Castille was a city of towering skyscrapers that dominated the horizon like a giant and perpetually glowed with light. The long, cold steel of the buildings cast a fiery reflection in the lakes as the third sun crept down behind the cover of the welcoming clouds. Way off in the distance, so far away that they faded in to the background stood the Twin Blades, two enormous peaks that were rivaled only by the tallest skyscrapers in Castille. Scaling the Twin Blades was considered a monumental feet in his society, so treacherous and steep were they. The sight was enough to take Su'Shif'ta'do's mind off of his recent loss long enough to wish that he was young again.

(THE COUNCIL REQUESTS THAT YOU PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO THEIR CHAMBER FOR DEBRIEFING. I WOULD ADVISE COMPLIANCE.)

"That's a surprise, REAVER. Got any new and exciting information?" Su'Shif'ta'do rolled his eyes and checked his radar. The Z-95s had peeled off and returned to the local airbase. "I'm just dying to find out the latest fashion trends here."

(DO I DETECT A HINT OF SARCASM IN YOUR VOICE, OR IS THAT WISHFUL THINKING? CERTAINLY A DIGNIFIED ASSASSION SUCH AS YOURSELF WOULD NOT STOOP TO FOLLOWING THE TRENDS THAT THE LOWLY PEONS RESPECT AND REVERE. DOES YOUR ARROGANCE KNOW NO BOUNDS?)

"Yeah, I was joking, REAVER. Just set us down without a scratch."

Su'Shif'ta'do settled into his pilot's chair and gazed at the beautiful plains flashing by underneath his ship. He checked on the towns as they passed them, looking for anything new or unusual. Most of all, his eyes strained to catch a glimpse of one particular tree that stood about half the size of the others again in the middle of the vast woods. There, in that tree, lived his mentor, Drasoc. It was Drasoc that saved him from a slow and inglorious death when he had been a mere hatchling, and it was Drasoc that had sponsored his entry into the Academy, thereby giving him the opportunity to rise above the life of a regular farmer.

_Not that farmers are bad_, he thought grimly. _After all, they do provide me with most of my sustenance and commodities. Without them I'd be starving, not to mention without a life._

Su'Shif'ta'do's ear piece throbbed slightly in his ear as REAVER turned on the communications light.

"Duinuogwuin One here."

The voice on the other line paused a moment before responding. Kreeft's voice sounded confused and disoriented, as usual.

"Roger that… I'm not even gonna bother trying to repeat that name. For the love of ryll, man, get a better call sign."

This prompted a chuckle from Su'Shif'ta'do. "What? Change the name? Do you know what Duinuogwuin are?"

"No, and I don't care. Just land and check in, will you? I'm kind of busy in here…"

Su'Shif'ta'do chuckled and decided to press the issue. "Do I smell a little spice on your side of this conversation?"

"No… maybe… yeah. Don't tell anyone, please Su'. I got nailed for a week last time I got caught. I friggin hate those cells."

"Don't worry, Kreeft. You're clear with me." Su'Shif'ta'do clicked the earpiece off and muttered, "If half of the people that did spice in this organization got caught, we'd be completely shut down for weeks."

The landing pad came into view as the _Rancor's Hide_ rounded the Twin Blades. The usual escort of guards and chroniclers were there, the former ready to escort him to the chamber, the latter eager young Initiates itching to hear of his team's latest exploits. A handful of technicians lounged about the landing pad repairing and polishing various ships on the pad. There were only two other ships in at the moment, the _Heretic_ and the _Rancid Feud_.

The _Heretic_ was owned by Slaaneer, one of Su'Shif'ta'do's best friends. They had shared a room since their entrance into the Academy and had forged an unbreakable bond together during those years. Once they graduated, however, Slaaneer had chosen the path of the Bounty Hunter, while Su'Shif'ta'do stayed close to home. They had exchanged correspondence over the years, keeping the other informed about the events taking place around them.

Slaaneer came from a family of modest heritage, with few notable ancestors. His family was mainly composed of farmers and chroniclers. Still, he was well-to-do and had a relatively nasty reputation among the Bounty Hunters, despite the fact that he'd not done much recently. Always a source of humor and always managing to see a bright side to whatever his troubles, Su'Shif'ta'do relied on him a lot whenever started to look sour.

The _Rancid Feud_ was a completely different story. Rastch owned the _Rancid Feud_. Rastch was scum. Officially the Chief Magistrate of the Castille region, he was nothing more than a rich thug. He and Su'Shif'ta'do had crossed paths many times, first at the Academy. There was a long and intense feud that existed between them. Su'Shif'ta'do cracked his knuckles in anticipation when he caught sight of the _Rancid Feud_. It was time to get Rastch back for his most recent shenanigan.

Su'Shif'ta'do did not know why he hated Rastch, it just felt right. The first day in the Academy, he had spotted Rastch picking on a farmer's son. The Trandoshan's father had spent most of his life scraping enough money together to get him in, and Rastch, being from a wealthy family, took personal delight in flaunting his wealth in the farmer's son's face. Su'Shif'ta'do settled the matter with a few quick raps and a warning that sent Rastch running with his tail between his legs. After all, the son of Sarchath was not one to fight with. Not with all the legends of Sarchath's family ferocity. It would have been like dueling a Wookie without the use of his arms.

Rastch had never forgiven him for that. He made every effort possible to slight Su'Shif'ta'do without making any direct insults. Su'Shif'ta'do had too many connections and was too fierce a fighter to initiate a blood-duel with.

"Hey, Duinuogwuin dummy, you there?" Slanneer's voice sounded crisp and lively on the radio. "I haven't heard from you in almost a year."

"I've been busy, you stupid Noob. After all, while you've been off gallivanting across the galaxy, I've been stuck running training missions and capping hotshot Imps for the Council. That, and keeping the endless line of suitors away from your sister."

"Are you sure it's not the other way around Su'? I heard she's had her eye on you for a while. After all, you _are_ the Acting-Chief Assassin. That's not too shabby for someone with your heritage."

Su'Shif'ta'do's reply was somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. "Don't kid me, Slaaneer. You and I know that I'm out of her league. I could be her uncle, for goodness sake." He paused and leaned back in his chair. "Though, she is rather attractive. Hm…"

A clicking noise came across the channel and Slaaneer let out a laugh of triumph. "I just got that on record, Su'."

Su'Shif'ta'do leaned forward and glared out at the _Heretic._ "No you did not!"

"Of course I didn't, Su'. I just couldn't resist pulling that over your eyes. Well, it looks like its time to make your entrance. Tell Skrobb hi for me."

A lump formed in Su'Shif'ta'do's throat at those last words. He switched off the radio off and slumped back in his seat, the joy that he had just felt forgotten. "Yeah… Skrobb."

(THE RAMP WILL DESCEND IN TEN SECONDS. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR REPORT.)

"Thanks, REAVER. Have fun… guarding the ship."

With a sigh Su'Shif'ta'do pulled himself up and strode over to the exit hatch. There was a soothing hissing noise as the depressurized air escaped the ship. Brief flashes of light pricked at Su'Shif'ta'do's eyes as the chroniclers turned on their recording devices. The guards shifted slightly to a more upright position and saluted. He ignored their salute and stalked down the ramp.

The chroniclers gasped in shock at the sight of him. He had been so busy since the fight that he had not bothered cleaning himself off. Dried blood and gore clung to his body and trailed behind him like seaweed. A dozen weak burns scarred his torso, leaving stretches of charred flesh. He was most definitely not what the chroniclers expected, especially given his reputation for clean and perfect kills.

The chief Chronicler stepped out from the ranks and bowed before Su'Shif'ta'do. He was an aged Trandoshan, with leathery scales and a rasping voice.

"Hail, Council's right hand, how fared your mission?"

"We got him." Su'Shif'ta'do brushed off further formalities with a wave of his hand. "I'll tell you the details later."

He headed off towards the hangar door, keeping a swift pace to lose the following crowd. He paused only for a moment, and that was at the _Rancid Feud_. Su'Shif'ta'do sneered at the vehicle's pristine condition. The paint was just right, everything shining like it was fresh out of the factory. He hated to see such a waste of material. _I'd better fix this up a bit,_ he thought mockingly. An oil line ran nearby the fighter, delivering fuel to the ships on the far side of the hangar. A quick slash with his claws was sufficient to make a tiny slit in the pipe, allowing a thin stream to spray out onto the _Rancid Feud_. A smile of accomplishment snuck onto Su'Shif'ta'do's face and he hurried off before anyone noticed.

Su'Shif'ta'do sped through the Guild Headquarters so quickly that he barely noticed the décor changes. Everything had been shined and polished to a sheen, and all of the usual decaying wood had been replaced. The Guild had the air of anticipation floating around. There was also some tenseness in the air that made him nervous. Most of the other assassins avoided eye contact with him and few came near. Something was not right.

There was still the same old honor guard at the Guild's Council Chamber. The twelve Trandoshan bodyguards stood to attention as Su'Shif'ta'do came into view. Two stepped forward to relieve him of his weapons while the others stood at a distance, hands perpetually resting on their holsters. _Paranoid, that's what they are._

Su'Shif'ta'do handed over his entire personal armory, except for the vibroblade-carrying glove and the hidden pair of MSD-32's. He never let those off of his body and he told few that they even existed. Life was much easier that way.

After a minute of cross-referencing his holopicture and DNA the doors parted and Su'Shif'ta'do entered the Council Chamber. Six of the seven members were present, a fact that Su'Shif'ta'do had already guessed by the presence of twelve guards, not the normal fourteen. They acknowledged him with nods of their heads as he entered. Glancing to the side, Su'Shif'ta'do saw two more figures in the guest seats. Rastch and Slanneer; bad and good news. Rastch had a smug grin on his ugly face, Slaaneer looked withdrawn and disturbed. He gave and almost imperceptive shake of his head when he met Su'Shif'ta'do's gaze. He was in for it, or worse.

"Noble Councilors," Su'Shif'ta'do knelt down and lowered his head till it touched his knee. The Viceroy Councilor held out his hand and Su'Shif'ta'do stood. "The mission that you sent my team on has been completed. Moff Chatraein has been eliminated."

"Is that all?" The Viceroy lifted his wizened form for the seat. Once a bold and powerful Assassin, Dastru was nothing but a disheveled old lizard now. Politics had weakened him beyond recovery and he no longer partook in the missions, though he was required to by mandate. There were actually a lot of Guild mandates that he ignored.

"Why are you the only one to return out of a dozen? Where is your command, _Acting-Chief Assassin_?" The last words were a mere hiss of contempt. Dastru had never liked Su'Shif'ta'do, nor would he ever. He despised Su'Shif'ta'do for his heritage. Su'Shif'ta'do's father had been a major competitor with Dastru and had ultimately beaten him in all things that Dastru held dear. He even snatched Dastru's love away from him and mated with her himself. That was an insult that few, if any, Trandoshans could ignore. "And how is it that you managed to lay waste to an entire villa in the middle of Imperial Remnant space when you were sent in on a covert mission? Have you forgotten so much already?"

"I regret to say that they fell during the action." The words struggled out of Su'Shif'ta'do's mouth, the pain of his loss coming fresh into his mind. "A company of stormtroopers ambushed us on our way out. As for your other questions, the villa was destroyed during the ensuing fight. My lessons are no where near fading from my memory, but certain circumstances cannot be ignored. They would have slain us all if we had not resorted to using explosions."

"That is not an acceptable excuse." Dastru snorted in mock pity. "You and your vaunted Assassins finally met your match and you couldn't handle it. You panicked, and laid waste to an entire square mile in your haste to escape a hard situation."

"Wrong." Su'Shif'ta'do gritted his teeth as he spoke, holding in his anger. _Who is he to lecture me about my failure? How would he know what I went through?_ "Neither my men nor I panicked. We remained calm and tried to fight our way out, but they cut us off. We needed a new escape route."

"You speak as if you were telling the truth." Dastru let out a smug grin. That was not a good sign. With a wave of his hand the holoprojector behind him flickered to life. Su'Shif'ta'do's mouth dropped in astonishment. There, right in front of him, was a recording of the assault through some holovid that he hadn't noticed. For ten long minutes the image showed the assault take place. First the sentries were neutralized, then breaching charges were positioned. When the countdown reached zero the Assassins entered the villa from four points. Sporadic gunfire sounded from the different directions as the units funneled into the main quarters. Five minutes after the countdown, nothing stirred in the villa except for the Trandoshans.

Something bothered Su'Shif'ta'do about the holovid. It was blurry around the edges, as if there was some kind of interference cutting off the film. The footage also shook slightly at regular intervals, up and down, up and down. Occasionally a burst of static would mar the image, and a large black object would swing into and out of view. It didn't make sense.

Then the footage leapt several feet upwards and a long flat sheet slid away from the view. The barrel of an E-11A1 appeared in the center of the footage, with two more barely at the edge of the screen. They focused on the Trandoshans below and the footage shook with the discharge of a long burst. The nearest Trandoshan, Kreeft, Su'Shif'ta'do thought it was, shuddered violently and dropped like a rock as a hail of blasterfire worked its way up his body. The blasterfire didn't cease until Kreeft had been down for several seconds. His body jerked spastically as a few final rounds were pumped into his head.

The footage spun around as an off-screen voice ordered them to turn around. Intense blaster fire was coming from that direction. The footage steadied again and the holovid shifted from the left to the right, showing a full squad of _Stormtroopers._ They stood motionless as the blaster fire slackened off. A handful of disembodied cries echoed on the audio. _One of the other squads was panicking. Good riddance to them to._ All sound stopped for a moment. Then the door on the walkway below burst open and an injured Trandoshan limped into view. Su'Shif'ta'do immediately recognized himself. The figure took a blaster round in the thigh and fell heavily clawing at the LJ-50 in its hands.

A thunderous shockwave rocked the holovid just a bare second later. The stormtrooper carrying the holovid stumbled backwards, screaming in panic. Chunks of flesh flashed past his head, spraying the holovid with blood. The trooper regained his feet in time to see a blue flash erupt from the Trandoshan's rifle. A single curse was heard on the audio before static engulfed the projector and the screen turned off. Three seconds later it flickered weakly back to life in time to see the Trandoshan smash the helmet in on a wounded soldier. Then a dark liquid leaked onto the screen and a steady beeping noise indicated that the soldier was dead.

Dastru flicked off the holovid and examined Su'Shif'ta'do carefully. Su'Shif'ta'do was too shocked to say anything. He just sat there, frozen, too stunned to speak. Dastru eyed each of the others in the room. The other Councilors squirmed in their seats uneasily, but they held their peace. Rastch looked immensely pleased, and flashed Dastru a beaming grin. Slaaneer didn't react visibly. He had withdrawn as far as only a Bounty Hunter could. Nothing would get a response from him unless he willed it.

"How…how did you get that holovid?" Su'Shif'ta'do's throat felt dry. He licked his lips slowly, willing his mouth to moisten up a little. "What did you do?"

At Dastru's nod Rastch rose and went to the door. He knocked three times and the door opened. The twelve guards entered the room, accompanied by twelve of Rastch's thugs. They circled around Su'Shif'ta'do, surrounding him with a hedge of vibroblades.

"Su'Shif'ta'do, Former Acting-Chief Assassin, you have been stripped of your rank and office. From hence forth you are relieved of your Guild-provided belongings and banished from this Guild. May you rot in hell."

Slaaneer rose to protest, anger in his eyes. Six of the guards broke off from Su'Shif'ta'do and halted him.

"Bounty Hunter Slaaneer," Dastru eyed him contemptuously. "As a guest and a Bounty Hunter I have no authority over you, but I have many connections in the Bounty Hunter's Guild. I would advise you to leave, now."

Slanneer hesitated, watching Su'Shif'ta'do for an answer. Su'Shif'ta'do shook his head. Slaaneer bowed reverently and exited the Chamber as quickly as his legs could carry him.

"Now, on to our little failure." Dastru laughed harshly and waved to Rastch. "Throw him out of here. His presence disgusts me."


	3. Leaving the Guild

The guards hustled Su'Shif'ta'do through the Guild headquarters. They moved with a quickness and intensity that made even the battle-hardened assassins fall back and scramble to get out of their way. Those that saw the procession understood the purpose. Banishments were not uncommon in the hard-edged Assassin's Guild. One failure was all it took for even the most accomplished assassin to be given the boot. But this procession surprised everyone. Never in the history of the Guild had an Acting-Chief Assassin been banished. It was unheard of. To reach that rank in the Guild, the highest non-Council rank, perfection must have been achieved in the assassin's work.

Yet here he was, the most decorated assassin to ever grace the halls of the Guild in hundreds of years, being dragged through the hallways like an incompetent apprentice. His fellow assassins watched him pass respectfully, saying nothing for fear of the Council's wrath. As unexpected as this was, they all knew the truth behind it. The Council had long been jealous, if not afraid of Su'Shif'ta'do's prowess. It was only a matter of time before something would have happened. Something, but not this. Poison or murder maybe, but none of the assassins had even begun to consider the possibility of a banishment. Su'Shif'ta'do heard them whispering to each other as they passed by. With his micro-audio enhancers, he could hear their words as clearly as if they had been speaking face to face. They all wanted to know what he did that made the Council move against him so brazenly.

The Councilor's guards were firm but gentle as they escorted him from the building to his ship. Su'Shif'ta'do stole a glance at them every few seconds and saw that they were not enjoying this. He had trained several of them in his past. As befitted his role as the Acting-Chief Assassin, it had fallen upon him to train the bodyguards of the Councilors. It was an easy task, for the bodyguards served for life, and those that did die died of old age more often than not. Gaps seldom appeared in their ranks.

Nevertheless, they all knew him well. He had fought along side each and every one of them at some point in his tenure as Acting-Chief Assassin. He had killed with them, bled with them, celebrated with them. They knew who he was, how upright and strong his character was. They knew better than to think that this banishment was not at all just. Despite their misgivings though, they carried out the task with mechanical precision. Su'Shif'ta'do silently applauded them for their loyalty. They were all unyieldingly loyal to their charge, no matter what their personal feelings. That was the true mark of a bodyguard. He was proud to have served beside such loyal soldiers.

The twelve bodyguards let him go once they had cleared the gates of the Guild. They handed over his weapons and armor before closing the gate. As the doors slid into place, Su'Shif'ta'do saw several of them cross their arms across their chests in a silent salute, the salute of the fallen. He nodded grimly and returned the salute, honored by their farewell. Then, once the doors settled into place with a dull thud, he spun on his heel and faced the remaining twelve thugs.

"Get in your ship, Failure."

They snickered among themselves and prodded him with their vibroblades, daring him to try something. He ignored the stinging jabs and walked towards his craft with deliberate strides, determined to not give the thugs any satisfaction.

The thugs continued prodding him, growing angry as he failed to respond to their harassing pokes. One swung his pole in a wide arc and brought it down viciously across his back. Su'Shif'ta'do hissed in pain as jolts of electricity shot up and down his spine where the pole connected. He kept walking, fighting hard to suppress the scream of rage that was building in his chest. He raised a hand to his chest and acted like he was brushing his chin. In reality though, he used the motion to cover his other hand as he activated the vibroblade in his glove. Gears whined as the blade extended between his fingers. He winced and thought about the last time he had used it. Punched right through a stormtrooper's helmet. He realized then and there that he had not even cleaned his weapons since the assassination. Sloppy, real sloppy. Human blood was notorious for its rusting abilities. He would need to check all his gear and clean it extra-carefully. First though, he needed to deal with these thugs. He knew better than to think that they would let him go easily. If they were here than they had been handpicked by Rastch. That meant that these were twelve of his deadliest brutes. Just a casual glance at them revealed their not-so-discreetly placed blaster pistols. They handled the grips meaningfully when he looked their way. They were here to kill him.

He breathed a little easier at the revelation. Not because he liked the idea, but because they had just laid down the rules of engagement without knowing it. Once they went for him, he would not hold back. They were his enemies now.

Just as he reached the ramp for his ship, three of the thugs darted in front of him and blocked his path. Two more came up and grabbed his arms from behind. They all glared evilly at him, tongues slithering in and out of their mouths as they sized him up.

"Hold him still, guys, he's putting up a heck of a fight," the leader drawled. The sarcasm in his voice was evident, but only from so close. Anyone else on the platform would not be able to tell the difference. The thug leaned closer and spat in his face, drawing clear satisfaction from Su'Shif'ta'do's look of disgust. He drew nearer and whispered in his ear, "This is for the Chorizad mission."

The thug launched a fist at Su'Shif'ta'do's stomach. Su'Shif'ta'do let it come in and threw his weight backwards at the last second. The blow still hit him, but he missed most of the impact. The thug stumbled forward and fell against him, swearing rapidly in Huttese. Su'Shif'ta'do snapped his head forward into the thug's face. The thug fell backwards onto the ground, nursing his injured face.

"You'll pay for that, scum." The two other thugs in front of him rushed forward, brandishing their vibroblades. The thugs on either side of him tightened their grip so that he could not move. That suited him just fine. It gave him an anchor to push off of.

As the blades descended, Su'Shif'ta'do pushed off the ground and brought both feet up. Once they reach chest level, he kicked out at the two thugs. Both of his feet connected soundly to their jaws. They groaned in pain and staggered backwards. Before the others could respond, he retracted his feet and swung his body upwards. His momentum carried him up and over, ripping his arms free from the grasp of the two thugs beside him. He landed behind them and, grabbing both by the ear, slammed their heads together. The thugs dropped like rocks.

That left seven of them. They gaped at him, looking alternately at their buddies lying on the ground and his face. Two dropped their weapons and ran, calling for help. The other five swallowed their fear and advanced, fanning out in a semicircle to cut off his escape. Su'Shif'ta'do smiled to himself and waited for them to leave an opening. He flexed his arms experimentally and gauged the strength of his adversaries. They were all strong-looking, but none of them looked particularly bright. _Perfect_.

The two thugs on either side of the semicircle charged him at once, swinging their vibroblades at alternating heights. Su'Shif'ta'do recognized the attack as they started forward. The move was called the _Or'dinii_, because only a complete lunatic could successfully counter the attack. The blades were positioned so that he could neither jump nor duck to avoid getting hit. No one could block them both either, because they came from perfectly opposite angles. It was a guaranteed deathblow against ordinary soldiers.

Su'Shif'ta'do however, was no ordinary soldier. In his tenure as an instructor for the Guild, he had taught this move to countless assassins. He knew the move inside out. There were several ways to parry the attack, but all of them involved being armed. He was not. So, choosing the only option available, he simply dove forward. The thugs swore in surprise as their blades hit nothing but air. He rolled towards the middle thug and came up in a boxing stance. A quick three punch combination laid the thug on the ground, bleeding from the mouth and nose. Then, hearing the others closing in, Su'Shif'ta'do crouched down and pushed off with his feet, launching himself in the air. He spun in a complete circle, lashing out with his feet. He did not hit anyone, but the move froze the thugs, who had no clue what he was doing. That gave him all the time he needed to unsheathe his own vibroblade and drop into a ready stance.

The remaining thugs hesitated, seeing him now armed like themselves. Dealing with him unarmed was one thing, even with his superior speed, but taking him on at an equal footing armament-wise was beyond their courage. They hurled their weapons at him and fled, cursing him as they disappeared from sight.

Su'Shif'ta'do slid his vibroblade back into its scabbard and deactivated his wristblade. He had not even used it. With a disgusted snort he rolled the unconscious thugs off his ship's ramp and boarded the craft, not looking back. REAVER greeted him as he sat in the pilot's seat.

(HELLO, MASTER. HOW DID IT GO?)

Su'Shif'ta'do glared at the speaker, knowing full well that REAVER already knew what had happened in the Council room. REAVER had originally been designed as a codebreaker/infiltrator AI. It had probably tapped into the security feed from its place in the ship and watched the whole proceeding. Out of respect though, it feigned surprise as he told it all that happened.

(THAT IS MOST UNFORTUNATE) It said when he finished. (I SUGGEST THAT WE LEAVE NOW BEFORE SECURITY ARRIVES. YOUR HANDLING OF THE THUGS WAS IMPRESSIVE BY MEAT STANDARDS, BUT IT WAS WOEFULLY INCOMPLETE. THREE TEAMS OF THE PLANETARY POLICE PROTECTORATE ARE CONVERGING ON THE LANDING PAD NOW.)

Su'Shif'ta'do nodded absently and gave REAVER permission to start the engines. He looked at the Guild building through the viewscreen as the ship came to life around him. He sighed heavily as he thought about it. The building contained so much beauty. It was full of magnificent sculptures, soaring arches and tapestries of this world's history. Inside it was a sea of knowledge so vast that it would take a full lifetime to see it all. Nearly all the people that he knew lived in that Guild. So many of his friends. And now it was all gone. He could not return under pain of death, a sentence that every one of his friends would not hesitate to carry out if set foot inside the Guild's grounds.

With REAVER at its controls, the _Rancor's Hide_ lifted off the ground and started for space. Su'Shif'ta'do stared at the receding image of the Guild all the way, reliving events from his past. He remembered the day that he had first entered the Guild. He had been young, just out of the Academy. He was among the three dozen graduates that had been accepted. Rastch was not one of them, neither was Slaaneer. Su'Shif'ta'do smiled as he remembered Rastch's fit that he threw when he found out that he had not been accepted. The memory was entertaining, one of the few good experiences that Su'Shif'ta'do had ever had with Rastch. Rastch had picked a fight with him, who knew why, but he did. Su'Shif'ta'do had beaten him easy. To top it off, Rastch had a bottle of rusc'te on him so the instructors had passed it off as assault by a drunk. Rastch had gotten three days in a cell for that.

(SHIP COMING ON INTERCEPT COURSE. ADVISE WEAPON ARMAMENT)

Su'Shif'ta'do glanced up from the viewscreen and checked his radar. He blinked hard when he saw the incoming fighter. The fighter was moving much faster than any of the planetary Z-95s could hope to dream of. He held up his hand to halt REAVER and waited for the ship to get closer. He tapped a few keys on the shipboard computer and brought up a fighter-class index, listing every known fighter that could match the speed of the incoming craft. Few could, and even fewer existed in this area of the galaxy. Most of them were pirate-operated or military-affiliated craft. He crossed those off the list and scanned the remainder of the ships, checking each one carefully but quickly. A smile crept across his face as he found the one that fit closest to the profile of the incoming craft.

"Hold the weapons, REAVER. It's Slaaneer. Check the course too. Aim us in the direction of the capitol."

The weapons system powered down with a comforting hum as the ship approached. The _Heretic_ flashed past his viewscreen, missing be mere meters as Slaaneer expertly maneuvered his craft around the larger _Rancor's Hide_. Su'Shif'ta'do waved at the cockpit as Slaaneer circled around the craft, giving him time to activate the boarding latch. Once it had been deployed, Slaaneer drifted in close and hooked his fighter to the magnetic clamps. Su'Shif'ta'do spun around in his chair to face the hold as the Bounty Hunter pulled himself over the lid and into the craft.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each waiting for the other to speak first.

"It's good to see you," Slaaneer said after a minute of silence. "Though the circumstances are not agreeable."

"Yeah, well…Frag them." Su'Shif'ta'do managed a weak smile, but the slump in his shoulders told Slaaneer all he needed to know. "What do you know about it?"

The Bounty Hunter shook his head. "I know that it was a setup. The Viceroy and Rastch were explaining it all to the Council when I came in. I knew something was up when they invited me. Bounty Hunters and the Assassin's Guild rarely do anything together except in missions. Even then though, it is more by chance than order."

Su'Shif'ta'do nodded silently. "Those _Mir'osik_!"

Slaaneer winced, but Su'Shif'ta'do heard him chuckle lightly. "Strong words."

"They deserve it." Su'Shif'ta'do threw his arms out wide and spun in around in his chair. "I've worked for them for twenty years, I've slaved away, teaching the Initiates, killing the hard targets, always, _always_ doing what they asked to perfection. And they dumped me like a wasted blaster."

Slaaneer did not respond, but walked over to the sabacc table. He flipped through the cards and shook his head. Su'Shif'ta'do watched him silently, waiting for him to respond. Slaaneer had always been a calming influence in his life. Just being around him made Su'Shif'ta'do feel better, despite the fact that they seldom met outside the battlefield. Hopefully he was thinking of a way to ease the pain of his banishment.

"Nice decks," he remarked after studying the table. "Who had them?"

"Skrobb and Krishart."

Slaaneer's shoulders bounced as he held in his laugh. "Too bad. Would have been a good fight."

"Yeah, it would've."

Slaaneer pointed to the pile of credits still lying on the table. "These going to the Orphan's Fund?"

"If you can get them there." Su'Shif'ta'do scowled and punched the armrest of his chair. "Access to the Orphan's Fund is denied to banished assassins. I can't turn it in, but you can."

Slaaneer pulled a small bag out of his belt and slid the credits into it. Slipping the bag carefully back into his belt, he said "Will do, Su."

"Thanks, friend."

"Anytime." Slaaneer strode over to the copilot chair and sat down. He looked at the navigation charts and frowned.

"You planning on leaving?"

"Might as well. Got nowhere to go to, really. Figured I'd…"

"You'd what?" Slaaneer hissed disapprovingly. "Why don't you stay at my family's house for a few weeks. Get some rest, get used to life without the Guild. From there, you can figure out what to do."

"Yeah, right. I wouldn't want to give your family the shame of housing a banished one."

Slaaneer shook his head and began punching in the coordinates for his family's house. "Don't give me that, Su. You know as well as I do that my family would be glad to host you."

"But the shame-"

"Frag the shame!" Slaaneer spun in his seat to face Su'Shif'ta'do. "You're a friend. The only true friend that I have. It doesn't matter what your status is. We'd take you in if the whole Guild was coming after you."

Su'Shif'ta'do opened his mouth to argue, but Slaaneer held up a hand to halt him. Reluctantly, he gave the green light to REAVER, and the ship turned in the direction of Slaaneer's home.

"Besides, my sister wants to see you again."

Su'Shif'ta'do groaned and leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling. "Don't start that again."

"It's true. Admit it, Su, you're a walking chick-magnet."

"Not anymore. I just got transferred to the pond-scum squad, remember?"

Slaaneer paused, mulling over his words. "True, but she won't care. She liked you before you got promoted."

"Really?"

"Ever since she first saw you, Su. It's been her dream for twenty years."

"Huh, never knew that." Su'Shif'ta'do stared hard at the ceiling, fighting to keep a calm expression on his face. "Interesting."

"Yeah."

(ARRIVING AT SLAANEER'S HOME IN HALF A GALACTIC HOUR. DRASCO RESIDENCE APPROACHING ON NORTH SIDE)

Su'Shif'ta'do glanced to the north, noting the humble-looking clump of trees tucked away in the wild countryside. Drasoc was his mentor and patron, the one who had advocated his entrance into the Academy. He would have to break the news to him eventually.

"Have you talked with him lately?"

"What?"

"Drasoc. You spoken with him in the last few years?"

"No." he admitted, feeling ashamed. He had been too busy with the Guild work to see his mentor much in the past ten years.

"Want to now?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, let's go see him." Su'Shif'ta'do started to protest, but Slaaneer was already overriding the autopilot and setting a course for the hidden house.

"Fine." Su'Shif'ta'do muttered. To be honest, he was afraid of seeing Drasoc. He had failed him. When he entered the Guild, he had promised Drasoc that he would do him proud, that he would be the best assassin ever. Now he was banished, nothing more than a black mark in the Guild's history. A black mark that would reflect on his mentor, who had sponsored him.

"Very well, let's go see him."

Su'Shif'ta'do looked down at the house and swallowed hard. He felt a knot of dread growing in his stomach.


	4. Meeting his Master

Su'Shif'ta'do blinked nervously as his ship cleared the tree level. A thousand warnings were flying through his mind faster than he could count them, all warning him away from this meeting. He glanced at Slaaneer, who was sitting patiently in his chair, and growled.

"This is a mistake." He muttered under his breath. "Drasoc will be really ticked."

"So?" Slaaneer looked up from the control panel and shrugged. "I'm ticked that you got banished. If I hadn't been stopped by the guards, I would've mowed Rastch and the Viceroy down then and there."

"Yeah, right. You and I both know that you're too much of a crowd-pleaser to do that. If you were threatened, maybe, but with me…" he let the thought hang there, reminding Slaaneer that although they were friends, Trandoshans never got that friendly. Survival of the fittest was a staunch belief among the lizard-like race. If a friend went down, you'd let him die and keep going. No thinking about it until everything was over and you were safe.

"You've got to look on the bright side, mate." The hearty backslap that followed his statement did nothing to lighten Su'Shif'ta'do's mood. "At least they didn't shoot you. And now you don't have to wade through the red tape anymore. By the Scorekeeper, that must have been a pain."

"Yeah, it was."

"I'm not being cold or anything mate, but you can't dwell on this. There was nothing you could have done. If the Council had turned on you, you had seven of the finest assassin minds in the galaxy plotting your downfall. I'm surprised you survived."

"I'll do a lot more than survive," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Slaaneer shook his head disbelievingly, but he let the comment pass.

"Touching her down now. Looks like Drasoc saw us coming. He's rolling out the red carpet."

Su'Shif'ta'do glanced to the viewscreen and saw a trio of heavily armed assault drones approaching his ship. Their IR scanners flashed as they looked over his ship, counting the number of bodies present. They were top of the line equipment, so even his expensive shroud camouflage could not repel signals being sent by the drones. Drasoc would know that there were only two of them. Easily enough for him to handle on his own if things got hot. Su'Shif'ta'do fervently hoped that they would not. Drasoc's skill with a blade was unparalleled by all but the most elite warriors in the entire galaxy. He could duel a Jedi and come out on top, Force and all.

Su'Shif'ta'do leaned towards the ship speakers. "Master Drasoc, I, Su'Shif'ta'do, request an audience with you. Accompanying me is the Bounty Hunter Slaaneer."

The drones turned to each other and hummed softly as they transmitted the audio byte. Five seconds later their lights blinked twice in succession. Su'Shif'ta'do nodded approvingly.

"We're good. Let's go before I change my mind."

"Suits me."

They marched down the ramp and into the building. The drones stayed by the ship. They would guard it until they left. No one would try and steal it, but it was one of the old-fashioned courtesies that Drasoc still adhered too. Also, if a fight broke out, they would blow his ship to smithereens. Those little drones packed a whole lot bigger punch than they appeared to have. The last time Su'Shif'ta'do had been here, he had personally upgraded them each with a pair of miniature concussion rockets. One of those alone could destroy an Imperial walker.

"Lead on, Su'." Slaaneer opened the first door and bowed mockingly. He grinned and tilted his head towards the entryway.

Su'Shif'ta'do steeled his nerves and took his first step into the room. At first glance it appeared empty, but Su'Shif'ta'do knew better than to judge it by first impressions. There were at least a dozen concealed blasters aiming straight at his heart from positions all across the room. One tricky move and he would die faster than he could blink.

"Master Drasoc?" He scanned the room anxiously. When no answer came back he took another step forward, painfully aware of the blasters that were tracking his movement.

"At last, the youngling returns as a soldier."

Su'Shif'ta'do turned to the voice, bowing respectfully as Drasoc entered the room from a side door. The old Trandoshan stood barely six feet tall, but he had the presence of a powerful warrior. A handful of scars about his head were the only indication of his former life as an Assassin. Although over one hundred years old, Drasoc had the body of a much younger Trandoshan. Muscles rippled in his arms as he extended a hand to he nervous Su'Shif'ta'do.

"It has been a long time." His handshake was deceptively strong. Su'Shif'ta'do, who prided himself in his physical strength, fought to keep a grimace off his face as Drasoc's iron muscles squeezed his hand tightly. He returned the favor, applying nearly all his strength to the shake. They held their grips for several seconds, competing to see which of them could stand the struggle longer. After a minute Drasoc gave a final squeeze and released his hold on Su'Shif'ta'do's hand. Su'Shif'ta'do nodded confidently, feeling more relieved.

"It has been a long time," Drasoc repeated. He sized Su'Shif'ta'do up, checking him for scars.

"It has been long indeed. Too long." Su'Shif'ta'do pointed to Slaaneer, who was leaning against the doorframe, unsure of what to do. "This is my comrade, Slaaneer the Bounty Hunter."

"I have heard of your exploits, Hunter of the Guild." Drasoc bowed his head towards Slaaneer. "Your deeds are the source of much story in the cantinas. Rumors speculate that you might even challenge Bossk as for the position of Honored Hunter."

Slaaneer tilted his head in acknowledgement and pushed off of the wall. "I have heard of the legendary trainer Drasoc. Your skills and experience are unparalleled on this world. I would not think of impugning the honor of the great Bossk. His skill is far beyond my own. Some day in the future maybe, but only after he has retired."

"A humble Bounty Hunter? Did the world change that much these past years?" Drasoc's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Your humility is commendable. Most Bounty Hunters overvalue their skills. Many claim to be more skilled than Assassins even."

"After knowing Su'Shif'ta'do for so long, I have seen that Bounty Hunters and Assassins possess overlapping sets of skills. In some things the Bounty Hunters have an advantage, in some the Assassins have the advantage."

"Spoken like a wise one." Drasoc turned towards the door he had entered from and waved for them to follow. The three Trandoshans walked through the door and into Drasoc's office. Slaaneer gasped in surprise when they entered. Thousands of medals and trophies covered Drasoc's walls. There were more trophies from fallen foes than there were leaves on a small tree. Slaaneer whispered a prayer to the Scorekeeper respectfully and bowed again towards Drasoc.

"Your trophies are magnificent." He whispered hoarsely, overawed by the spectacle. "I have never seen so fine a collection."

"It is extensive." Drasoc shrugged off the compliment and faced Su'Shif'ta'do. "But you did not come here to see my trophies. Tell me about your career, Su'Shif'ta'do. I have heard little about the missions of my adopted-apprentice."

Su'Shif'ta'do swallowed hard a launched into an abbreviated narrative of his time in the Guild. He gave short descriptions of his missions and spoke little about the men he fought beside. When Drasoc did ask a question, which happened little, Su'Shif'ta'do 's answers were brief and quick. Perhaps that is why Drasoc halted him before he reached the final mission, the one where his men were ambushed by Imperial troopers.

"You are about to tell me something bad, aren't you?"

"Yes… Master Drasoc." Su'Shif'ta'do felt his stomach turn in a knot. If there was going to be trouble, it would be now.

"What happened?"

"The Imperials ambushed us after we had completed the assassination and eliminated my men. I had to fight my way off the planet and out of the system. I have been… _exiled_ from the Guild " He spat out the last words quickly, feeling extremely uneasy. His hands instinctively went for his concealed blasters and his whole body tensed.

Drasoc did not move or appear surprised at the report. He stared at the floor, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up and stared Su'Shif'ta'do straight in the eye.

"You followed standard operating procedures?"

"Yes."

"You got in and eliminated the target without tripping any alarms or alerting any guards."

"Yes. All of the guards were neutralized without an alarm being raised. Their security system was hacked an disabled before we even entered the compound."

"And you checked your scanners constantly."

"Yes. The stormtroopers were hidden by thermal-jamming cloaks. The scanners did not pick them up."

Drasoc huffed and turned away from them. His massive hands smacked together ominously.

"So you were set up."

"It appears that way. The Council had video film from the stormtroopers' helmet cameras. They were in on it. Viceroy Dastru admitted it himself."

"Then it is not your fault." Drasoc spun on his heel and patted Su'Shif'ta'do on the arm. Su'Shif'ta'do's mouth dropped in surprise. He had expected anger, contempt, rage, even violence. The last thing he had expected was sympathy.

"Viceroy Dastru is one of the greatest schemers to ever grace the Council. I know of no lizard as cunning as he. His plots are unfathomable and never fail. If he was behind that ambush, then he was looking for a reason to remove you from the Guild. And he always sees his schemes in to perfection. Perhaps you were becoming too powerful?"

"But why? I train the best Assassins in the Guild. The last generation of Assassins have all benefited from my knowledge and experience. My work is perfect."

"Maybe it is too perfect." Drasoc growled and slammed his fist on his desk. The sturdy desk shuddered from the impact. "Use your head, boy! Do you not remember why I was 'retired?'"

"The Council gave you an honorable retirement. It is not the same thing." Su'Shif'ta'do crossed his arms firmly. "They didn't hire a bunch of shinies to grease you."

"But I was older then than you are now. They knew that retirement was an option I would be willing to take. You are still young, Su'Shif'ta'do. Offering you retirement would be ridiculous. It would have just alerted you to their intentions. They needed a good excuse to get rid of you. I am sure that your death was preferable, but there's an old saying; 'I want him dead or breathing."

"And killing my men was just a side-note?"

"The Council does not care about the lives of a dozen Assassins, no matter their rank. Assassins can be replaced. All that Council cares about is the stability of the Guild."

"But how could I have been upsetting the Guild's stability? To my knowledge I have been strengthening it."

"You are young and talented, Su'Shif'ta'do. Your popularity and power are second only to the Council, and they are all older than you by fifty or more years. It would have been easy for you to rally the younger generation and oust the current Council from power. They feared you and decided to take action before you could seize the opportunity."

"That's preposterous! No Assassin would do such a thing. It is against the Guild tenets."

"It has happened before."

"In the forgotten past." Su'Shif'ta'do rubbed his aching thigh with one hand. He still needed to apply some bacta to it. It would heal on its own soon enough; the pain was nothing, but it was hard to stand on it for any length of time. His fight with the thugs had drained most of his energy. "That coup happened back in the time of the Old Republic."

"Which was not as long ago as you claim." Drasoc poked Su'Shif'ta'do in the chest with a clawed finger. "Some are still alive that remember the chaos that followed."

"But they experienced the tail-end of it, not the actions themselves. Surely the Council did not think me capable of such harm."

"Dastru has grown paranoid in his power. He looks for potential enemies and eliminates them before they can threaten his position. It is a common vice among the Viceroys in the past. Pardon the pun."

Su'Shif'ta'do smiled despite the pain still clinging to his heart. Relief flooded his veins as he looked at Drasoc and realized just how much Drasoc cared for him. He was the closest thing that Su'Shif'ta'do had ever had to a father. Seeing him here, giving a bad joke to try and ease his pain, it made Su'Shif'ta'do realize just how much he had missed his mentor.

"Are you hungry, my friend?" Drasoc swept his hand out from his side and pointed towards the dining hall. "I can have food prepared for you."

"Thank you, but we must be on our way. I am to dine with Slaaneer's family tonight. I would like to return soon though. To catch up on the times and to seek further training."

"What training could I give you that you do not already know?" Drasoc's twinkling eyes betrayed his feigned surprise. "Surely you have grown beyond my skills."

"I have yet to see the day that you cannot teach me something." Su'Shif'ta'do bowed humbly. "But now my companion and I must take our leave. Farewell, Master Drasoc."

"Farewell, Su'Shif'ta'do. May your enemies fall before your blades."

_May your enemies fall before your blades_. He thought to himself as he exited the room. Slaaneer followed behind him, still gazing at the trophies until they left his line of sight.

"How long was he in the business?" Slaaneer asked him as they boarded his ship. "I've never seen that many trophies."

"He's been 'in the business' since before either of us were hatched."

"So I heard."

Su'Shif'ta'do punched in the coordinates of Slaaneer's home and settled back in his chair. Drasoc's parting words had given him an idea. He was sure that Drasoc had meant that goodbye with all his heart. He was showing Su'Shif'ta'do a way to deal with the pain. Su'Shif'ta'do closed his eyes and thought about the idea, not intimidated in the least.


End file.
